


Write Us Everywhere In Visible Silence

by Delphinapterus



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Codes & Ciphers, Developing Relationship, Handkerchief Code, M/M, Summer of Like, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-17
Updated: 2012-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-29 17:24:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphinapterus/pseuds/Delphinapterus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a love song in my own way</p>
            </blockquote>





	Write Us Everywhere In Visible Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for from the prompt "Pete/Mikey, invisible ink".  
> Originally [posted there](http://community.livejournal.com/no_tags/40116.html).

"We need a code, like Morse code," Pete says and snaps his fingers. SNAP. SNAP. SNAP.

"You can't snap a dash," Mikey tells him as he squints into the bright blue sky following the white contrail of a jet until he can just pick out the dark dot of the plane.

Pete hums and snaps meditatively as though he can turn a snap into a dash. It doesn't work. Pete makes a buzzing raspberry noise and snaps again. The snapping changes to follow the four four thump of the bass line that they can hear coming from the main stage. Mikey nudges at Pete's ankle with the toe of his shoe until Pete flips onto his hip, propping his head up with his hand, so he can frown down at Mikey. He is wearing Gerard's giant white sunglasses that he stole from Mikey early that morning when the sun was still pleasantly warm and Mikey was contemplating if it was worth it to find another hoodie. Mikey reaches up, hand waving and looking weird from his angle, to touch the plastic frame. He can feel the heat from Pete's skin where his pinkie finger rests against Pete's face.

"Why?"

"Have a secret code with me, Mikeyway?" Pete asks with a grin.

"Morse code isn't secret," he says but he can't help smiling back.

Pete makes a tsking noise, "nobody _here_ knows it."

"Ray does."

The sunglasses have slipped down Pete's nose so Mikey can see how his eyes widen as he exclaims, "no way!"

"Way," Mikey snickers and pushes the sunglasses back into place gently.

Pete flops over so that he's laying beside Mikey, knee pressing gently against Mikey's leg, "there is no way the guitar god of MCR knows Morse code, when'd he have time for that too?"

Mikey shrugs, "Gerard and him were learning because they were going to back mask it into _Breakfast Monkey_."

Pete makes an interested humming noise, "we could do that."

Mikey rolls onto his side, propping his head up with one hand even though it's hot enough that just touching his face makes it feel even stickier. Pete's fingers are tapping against his thigh in a silent rhythm and Mikey gets distracted for a second trying to hear what Pete is tapping.

"You'd have to hide like cool shit though, not that Old Pink crap. It was such a downer when me an' Gee found it," he tells Pete seriously and Pete nods like he played "Empty Spaces" backward trying to hear the voice too.

"Of course we'd do something cool," Pete says outraged, "I could put a phone number in it, for a good time call Joe."

Mikey snickers, "you'd be so dead."

"Yeah but it'd be worth it."

They are both silent staring into the endless blue of the sky where the contrail has dissipated into a few tiny white wisps. Pete wiggles enough that the toe of his shoe can lean against Mikey's ankle bone.

Mikey listens to Pete pretending to do Morse code with his fingers and lets the sun soak more heat into the black fabric of his shirt. He feels like he should know what Pete is snapping out.

SNAP. SNAP. SNAP. Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. SNAP. SNAP. SNAP.

Hazy memories of listening to Ray and Gerard rise slowly to the surface. He squints against the bright blue of the sky and tries to grasp the pot-drenched memory of laying sprawled across Gerard's bed listening to the metallic sound of Ray playing his guitar unplugged.

SNAP. SNAP. SNAP. Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. SNAP. SNAP. SNAP.

Finally the memory crystallizes and he knows the meaning of that pattern.

"S. O. S.?" he rolls to poke Pete sharply in the side.

Pete yelps and swats at his hand but Mikey is ready for him and catches his wrist so he can hold off Pete's attempt at tickling his side. He knows what comes next, knows it in his bones from years of feeling Frank curl and twist around him, but he can't bring himself to move. The heat makes him feel long and stretched out like fairground taffy and he ends up just holding on as Pete attempts to yank free. He can feel the solidness of bone and Pete's wrist is too wide for Mikey to successfully curl his fingers around it enough to make the tips touch like he could if he was holding onto Frank's wrist. The huff of Pete's breath is the only warning he gets before Pete swings himself up and over, letting his wrist twist in Mikey's grip, so he can straddle Mikey. Pete's weight rests against his hips. It's a well-known weight.

Pete's body blocks the sun and throws his face into shadow as Mikey squints up at him. He knows how it would go if he shifted and arched up into Pete's weight instead he waits enjoying the comfortable familiarity of the position and the feeling of Pete's thighs bracketing him.

"Sound On Sound" Pete says hopefully and Mikey laughs.

Pete lean down to kiss the laughter from his lips. His mouth is sticky from the Coke Zero they shared earlier and Mikey lifts his hips in an invitation of more. Pete's tongue slips into his mouth. Invitation accepted.

***

"William says we could use hankies," Pete tells him pointing at the scrap of striped cloth hanging from his left back pocket.

"That's for sex."

"I got the sheet from Bill, but like we could modify it."

"Uh huh."

"See I can send you a message without making up a new code, look," Pete instructs and wiggles a bit so the cloth in his pocket quivers. It's definitely tan and blue striped.

Mikey pushes his glasses up higher on his nose. "We don't smoke."

"So?"

"Gabe says tan is for cigars."

Pete frowns and pulls out the cloth which looks suspiciously like a cut over sock. He balls it up so that the blue stripe is on the top.

"Why were you and Gabe talking about that?"

"It's Gabe," Mikey says which is always an explanation when it comes to Gabe.

"Fine, Mister Knows Everything, look."

Mikey peers at the blue stripe and asks hesitantly, "is it teal?"

"What? No. It's aqua," Pete says indignantly shaking the bundle of cloth at Mikey.

"Isn't aqua brighter?" Mikey asks skeptically.

"I'm telling Gerard you don't know the difference between aqua and teal. He's failing in his brotherly duty."

Mikey grabs the bundle of cloth, forcing Pete to focus, "don't you dare."

"Oh fine, but only if you come with me to the water park."

***

"Pete said to give this to you," Ray says passing Mikey a folded piece of paper.

Mikey flicks the paper open. It's blank. He turns it over. Still blank. Completely blank except for his name in Pete's sharply pointed capitals. The paper is crinkled in places like it has been wet and dried.

"Did he say anything else?"

Ray shrugs, "he asked if he could borrow a copy of 1916."

Mikey's sidekick vibrates and he flips it open to a new message from Pete.

 _Cum = invsbl ink!!!_

Ray makes an indignant squawk when Mikey flips the screen so he can read the message too.

"Tell me he's joking? Tell me I wasn't carrying around Pete Wentz' dried cum in my pants?" Ray demands.

Mikey sniffs at the paper which smells faintly lemony. Ray makes a choking noise and it's too much to resist.

"Sorry dude," Mikey says patting Ray gently on his shoulder.

Ray sighs mournfully, "I hate you both."

***

Mikey knows that you need heat or maybe cabbage water to see invisible ink. He doesn't think Pete actually jerked off to write him an invisible secret message since Pete has to know that he doesn't have a black light to read it. The lemon scent of the paper makes him feel secure enough to assume it's lemon juice. He makes a mental note to hunt down Pete's lemon juice supply later. Ray has been complaining about missing real lemonade and lemon juice would make a good peace offering just in case they need him to deliver anymore notes.

Mikey tries waving the hair dryer back and forth across the paper but it doesn't spontaneously reveal its message. He was hoping for something cool where the writing would look like it was swimming up from the quiet white depths of the paper. There is no writing. He puts the mouth of the dryer directly against the paper and presses it firmly into the counter top so the paper can't blow away. The dryer's roar cuts off without warning. He flicks the switch. Nothing. Fuck. He pokes at the vent on the back and jerks back at how hot it feels. He hopes the dryer has only over heated. He flicks the switch once more in the hope it will work again but it remains quiet.

He examines the paper and can just make out the faint curve of what could be a O or maybe a C. It looks sort of like the faded ghosts Gerard painted when he was in his vintage phase. Mikey feels relieved that the heat worked and he didn't have to figure out how to get cabbage water on Warped. He just needs a better heat source. Then whatever Pete is trying to tell him will show up and he'll know why Pete isn't texting constantly wondering if he has found the message yet.

He finally settles for tucking the paper into the toaster oven so it will get evenly heated. He watches the interior turn warm orange-red and the edges of the paper lift in the heat. It is hard to make out the words forming on the paper and the heat radiating off the toaster makes sweat prickle along his hairline unpleasantly. He sets the timer on the toaster and fumbles out his Ipod before setting off in search of the new shipment of comics he knows Gerard has hidden.

Mikey is engrossed in the latest issue of _Seven Soldiers: Klario the Witch Boy_ , which Gerard insists is amazing, when Frank comes stumbling up the steps of the bus wiping his face with his t-shirt. His tattoos are dark and gleaming with sweat. He halts at the top of the stairs and sniffs deeply.

"Something's burning. Were you trying to cook?"

"No," Mikey retorts. It still stings that Frank still won't let go of that one little incident with the Crockpot.

Frank takes another deep sniff and shakes his head, "there's definitely something burning."

"Oh shit."

Mikey scrambles up to check Pete's message. There is the barest curl of smoke starting to rise from the toaster. Mikey flings open the open the door and grabs the curled brown edge of Pete's message hissing as it burns his fingers.

"Why the fuck do you have paper in the toaster?"

Mikey curls protectively around the paper, "it's a secret."

He knows Frank is shaking his head and doing his best "why me?" face but he doesn't turn around to see it. The paper is blackened on the far edge but the letters stand out, round and child-like, in dull brown against the scorched paper. They remind Mikey of finger-painting.

 _This is a love song in my own way_

He wants to trace the letters, put his fingers where Pete's were, trace them over and over until the paper is worn through.

"Is that a love note?" Frank asks, hopping a little as he tries to see over Mikey's shoulder, "is that why you almost burnt down the bus?"

"Fuck off Frank," Mikey says but staring down at the round wide letters of Pete's note he can't summon any real anger.

Frank sighs, "no more notes, tell Wentz no more secret notes."

***

The note is folded into a small square tucked as deep as he can get it into his pocket but he can feel the slight dent of it if he runs his fingers just so over his thigh. Pete's eyes widen as he catches sight of Mikey leaning against one of the speakers but he just spins back to face the audience. Mikey presses his fingers against the note.

"Mikeyway!" Pete shouts as he hands his bass off to a hovering tech.

Mikey raises one hand so he can wiggle his fingers like the sorcerer's apprentice. Pete laughs and grabs his hand pulling him away from the stage toward the buses. Mikey goes willingly, letting Pete drag him along until they're out of the crowds of musicians and techs and into the relative quiet of the buses and trucks that make up Warped.

Pete glances around before he lunges, pushing Mikey up against the sun-warmed side of the Fall Out Boy bus, and pressing his mouth against Mikey's in a sloppy kiss.

"Did Ray give you my message?" Pete asks against his mouth.

Mikey nods, "the toaster almost finished it though."

Pete pulls back enough to stare at him in confusion, "the toaster?"

"Even heat," Mikey explains.

Pete nods like Mikey knew he would. Pete gets that sort of thing. Mikey licks his lips because he knows he can't leave Pete hanging, can't make him ask the question when they can both feel it hanging in the air between them.

"If I could, I'd write you a song," Mikey says because he doesn't have the courage to say the word aloud.

Mikey lifts their joined hands. He turns Pete's wrist over so they can see the delicate underside where the veins show up as dark lines on Pete's skin until they're hidden by his tattoos. Pete's eyes tighten at the corners but he waits patiently while Mikey fumbles out the sharpie that he stole from Gerard's supply box. He pulls the cap off with his teeth and presses the tip against Pete's skin. He draws the twin humps of an M and then writes the downward points of the W across it. Pete's breath stutters but Mikey refuses to look up until he's completed the tail of the heart enclosing the letters. He brings their joined hands down to tap against the square of the note in his pocket. He feels Pete's fingers press against it, curious, searching to figure out the meaning of the square.

"Oh," Pete breathes with a smile that Mikey secretly thinks of as _his_ smile.

While he presses one finger to his clumsy drawing on Pete's skin he leans close so he can whisper against Pete's mouth, "in my own way."

Pete shifts forward so their lips are pressed tight together and Mikey is the one who turns the gentle touch into a kiss.


End file.
